


Fifty Shades of Holmes

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fifty Shades of Grey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“’I don’t remember reading about nipple clamps in the Bible.’ Oh, my God.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Shades of Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to ACD, Moffat, Gatiss, and the likes. Excerpts from "Fifty Shades of Grey" belong to E.L. James.

Molly doesn’t read very often. That isn’t to say that she despises reading; in fact, reading is one of her favourite things in the world (among the others are Toby, jumpers, roller coasters, and, most of the time, Sherlock.) It’s simply that Molly lacks the time to read. Occasionally, she’ll flick through one of her old favourites, usually _Harry Potter_ or a compilation of classic poems, but she never really has the undivided focus and attention to give to reading.

It was only based on Mary’s recommendation that Molly had a book in her lap. Mary had grinned ear-to-ear as she handed it over, strongly insinuating that it was worth a read – or at least a good way to pass the time. So, now, Molly cradles the borrowed book between her legs, cuddled up in bed. Sherlock is next to her, his laptop resting on his thighs, presumably reading over case files. They both stay silent, as they sometimes do after a long day, giving each other some space before they fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

It isn’t ten minutes later that Molly pauses her reading to erupt with laughter, momentarily shutting the book. Sherlock blinks, and furrows his brows, closing his laptop and setting it aside.

“Should I ask what it is that you’re laughing about?” he asks almost hesitantly.

She struggles to catch her breath, and it seems she is forming a response before she continues laughing, tilting her head back and slapping her hand over her mouth. Her free hand pushes the book towards Sherlock, who grabs it, arching a perfect brow.

“ _Fifty Shades of Grey_?” he reads aloud off the cover before flipping it over to the back to read the summary. After a moment, he parts his lips to speak, then closes his mouth, rolling on his side to face Molly, who is still guffawing. “You _naughty_ little minx, you,” he breathes.

“No, no,” Molly denies, who is finally regaining normal breathing. “It’s – it’s not that. It’s just – this book is just so _bad_. Not like inappropriate, just – it’s _so damn horribly written_!”

Sherlock is obviously intrigued, so he flips through the offending piece of literature and selects a random page. “My God,” he breathes after a moment, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “ _’His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel… or something_.’”

This only prompts Molly to continue her laughter, her cheeks shifting to a bright shade of pink.

“Why do you even _have_ this book?” Sherlock insists of her, who gives a shrug.

“Mary lent it to me,” she explains, snatching the book back from Sherlock in search of more amazingly terrible excerpts. “ _’I don’t remember reading about nipple clamps in the Bible._ ’ Oh, my God.”

Sherlock grins amusedly, grabbing the book back and flicking through more pages. “ _’Oh my… I didn’t know it would feel like this… didn’t know it could feel as good as this. My thoughts are scattering… there’s only sensation… only him… only me… oh, please… I stiffen_ ,’” he reads in the low baritone of his that usually stirs up arousal from Molly. This time, it only makes her laugh harder.

It’s her turn to read, so she grabs back the book, skipping ahead a few pages. “ _’I had no idea, giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is going the merengue with some salsa moves.´”_ She throws her head back again and cannot stop giggling for her own good.

Sherlock tugs the book from her hands again, and as he skims over the most explicit descriptions of the almost pathetic sex life of Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele, Molly can swear she sees a faint blush among his pale cheekbones. “ _’I close my eyes, feeling the build up… pushing me higher, higher to the castle in the air.’_ Molly, when we do have sex, are your thoughts even _remotely_ close to a castle in the air?”

“No!” she howls with laughter, clutching her abdomen as she feels the pressure from her chortling fits.

Continuing on, Sherlock chuckles at her amusement, and continues on. “’ _Suddenly, he sits up and tugs my panties off and throws them on the floor. Pulling off his boxer briefs, his erection springs free. Holy cow! He kneels up and pulls a condom onto his considerable length. Oh no… Will it? How?’”_ Even he can’t stop from laughing at the ridiculousness of the story, and he runs a hand through his curls, briefly closing his eyes. “Molly, would you say that every time you see me naked, you think to yourself, ‘ _Holy cow!’?”_ he asks.

“Absolutely,” she confirms in between giggles, nodding.

He grins, not sure when the last time he’s seen her laughing this much was. “’ _I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. My tongue swirls around the end. He’s my very own Christian Grey-flavoured popsicle._ Jesus.”

Molly isn’t sure if she’s laughing at the absurdity of the prose, or the fact that Sherlock Bloody Holmes is reading aloud what has been dubbed as “Mommy porn,” but either way, she doesn’t care.

“Jesus,” Sherlock repeats, closing the book and carelessly allowing it to clunk to the floor. I need to have a talk with Mary about the type of literature you two read.”

Her breath is fully regained after a few more moments, and she sighs, reaching over to turn the lamp on the bedside table off, coating the room in darkness. “Shush,” she mumbled, still grinning as she curls up to Sherlock’s side.

Sherlock instinctively slings an arm across Molly’s torso, and their bodies align perfectly as they always do. “Sleep, Molly,” he murmurs down at her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll need to store your energy for your inner goddess tomorrow.”

He can make out a mumble of “shut up, Sh’lock” from Molly before she drifts off into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't make fun of me for this.


End file.
